So It Started With A Dream
by ViolentQuill
Summary: Was it real? Was it really a dream? Draco is locked in a room of questions and can't answer a single one. But one main question was engraved in his mind. Why Her?
1. Authors Notes

_**Authors Notes:**_

I'll write this now so I don't have to write it a million times again and again when people don't even read it --'!

I do not own the characters, scene, anything, only the story line. There is mild language, but very few, (I think you know what the rest will be).

I hope you enjoy my story, and I will update it as soon as I can.

Please Review all chapters. Think of Reviewing as paying your thanks for a writing the story for you to read.

_**Thank you**_


	2. The Dream

Chapter One A Dream 

The room was warm and humid, and the moment was golden. The couch was set and the fire was lit. The only thing missing was Hermione.

_Malfoy sat with his arms outstretched across the sofas back and his eyes half shut, also with his legs crossed. The accommodations wallpaper was maroon and so was the fluffy, tepid carpet. _Hermione's taking too long_ thought Malfoy, lounging across the settee, holding his skinny head upon his tired, steady hand. _

_The blonde haired boy let out a yawn, but kept his position practical._

"Malfoy, I'll be there in a minute" called a voice. The tone was soft and affectionate, never before had he heard such passion in a line. A content grin spread across his face and he sat up and into his original, scene. Satisfied as he was at that moment, he knew it was about to get better.

_His brushed his hand along the white, button-up school shirt he was wearing, and placed it behind his head, along with his second hand._

A crash came of a cupboard shutting, and a sigh emerged from the silence of the kitchen behind him. Draco's head perked up, as thuds from the carpet came, and a cold hand stroked his cheek. He shut his eyes peacefully, as creaks from the sofa sounded; he re-opened his eyes and peered to his left. Hermione was lounging across him, her hands on his lap and chest.

"_Did I take too long, Draco?" Hermione asked, her eyes fluttering carelessly._

_Hermione and him stared into each other's eyes tenderly and he caressed her cheek._

"_We have all the time in the world, Hermione…" he answered, smiling lovingly. He had never really noticed before, but her eyes were a calm, playful hazel, and her hair wasn't just bushy and untidy; she'd done something to it, maybe it was the moment, but her hair had a glimmering shine to it. _

"_D'you think we're wasting our time?" Hermione asked, looking down doubtfully. Why had she said that? There had to have been a good reason._

"_Why do you say that?" Said Malfoy, he straightened up, and placed his left leg beneath his right and held her hand. He stared into her eyes once again, trying to talk some common sense into her. She was smart, but now she wasn't. Perhaps she was just smart in class? _I doubt that, _Draco thought, a grin crossing his soft, temperate face. _

"_I – I'm just being silly. I'm not my usual self …" she forced a smile and let out a short laugh. "Never mind me" _

The two moved closer; now serious expressions on their faces. She leant onto his chest and placed her warm arms around his neck. It tickled him a little, but he chose to ignore it. Nothing could ruin it now. Still staring deeply and lovingly into each other's eyes, they came closer and closer, until they came so close.

_Hermione cocked her head slowly to the right, and lifted up, finishing in a slow, affectionate kiss. The fire seemed to glow magnificently and forcefully. The room appeared as if it were spinning. Their eyes were both shut, and the kiss was set lasting for five minutes; Draco flowed his fingers through Hermione's hair quickly as the brown eyed Gryffindor massaged Malfoy's neck._

The kiss ended. They both separated slowly. Staring into her eyes. He smiled and stroked her, from her cheek to her soft, silky hair. "Draco! Draco!" Draco woke. His eyes widened as he glanced about the room. "Draco!" The Slytherin shot his head forwards towards the front of the classroom. Students were beamed at him in a sneering way. "Yes professor?" Draco answered. Professor McGonagall was his least favourite teacher at Hogwarts, and no doubt he'd receive detention for sleeping in class times. But there was something that made Malfoy freeze, the fact his dream involved Granger, That filthy little Mudblood. "No sleeping in my class – detention" That line seemed to echo through his ears as a splitting headache shot into his left temple. He shot one last glance around the room across to the far corner, and there, was Potter, Weasley and Granger, the inseparable trio. At that moment, an endless pit seemed to drop in his stomach and he felt as if a knife had struck his heart. Granger. He breathed in deeply, trying to forget the dream. It didn't mean anything, it was just a dream. But the more he scalded himself about not having the dream the more he thought. 

"Now, Mr Malfoy, stay behind. I have some extra homework for you at the end of the lesson" Professor McGonagall said. Malfoy shot her a dark look, before the bell rang, signalling end of school time.

The blonde haired Slytherin watched, in yearning as Hermione left the room, not even to turn around, not even to talk. She just strolled away, silently.

_It wasn't Granger in my dream …it was my imagination. The Granger in my imagination! Like a filthy mudblood like her could compare to the dream last night. If that was true, she'd of had the same dream – it didn't mean a thing…_ Malfoy assumed, flicking his hand nervously. _I'll deal with detention first – then I'll get some well merited sleep. And hopefully … I won't have the same, ludicrous dream again…_

"Mr Malfoy. How many times has it been now?" the head of Gryffindor announced, with her round, shining spectacles hanging off the brim of her furrowed nose. Her eyes were sharp and her lips were tight. If he had to describe McGonagall in one word, he'd say '_Stern_'.

"I've never slept in class Professor. You must have gotten mixed up with someone else" Draco answered. He hesitated for a short moment, then whispered, "_Like all the time"_

"What was that last bit Mr Malfoy? I assure you, if you cannot sort out your outgoing attitude young man, I_ will_ get in touch with your father, and I _will_ take necessary precautions" She struck Malfoy's nervous system. He knew very well that his father, Luscious Malfoy, may well recompense his was out of this mess, but there was no further need to go on with the row.

The teacher laid a piece of parchment on the desk Draco sat at. He looked down disgusted and back up with a sorry face. _Oh, what have I got to do now? Paint a picture?_

"I want you to write out five-hundred times, why students – especially you – should listen in class"

"I've already told you professor. I was listening!" Draco protested, banging his fist firm down on the table. Of course he regretted it afterwards: with what, an additional freight of lectures on his shoulders, but with an awful pain in the side of his hand.

"Do NOT raise your voice at me like that, Mr Malfoy. Do you want another shipment of homework?" She asked, with her usual strict, harsh tone.

"No Professor"

"I advise you keep your voice down then" Professor McGonagall whispered in a calmer accent. She turned on her heal and returned to her desk. "You may leave, now"

Draco immediately snatched up the parchment he'd received, and ambled out of the classroom. When in the corridor, he ran up, forgetting the cold murky passageway. Forgetting the feeling off someone watching him. He stopped dead, shut his eyes tiredly and rested against the wall.

The blonde haired boy could hear whispers from far away and clattering footsteps echoing. His head buzzed, and the earth spun, like if he was dizzy. Malfoy dropped his books and parchment, the ink shattered on the floor, he neither jumped nor cared.

He sighed.

"I wonder if Granger, _did_ have the same dream"


	3. Silent Wishes

**Chapter Two**

_**Silent Wishes**_

_**#Draco's eyes#**_

Draco woke to find the blinding rays of sunlight shining brightly in his weary eyes. The quilt covered him from neck down and his right arm dangled limply off the bed.

The previous day was the opening thought into his mind at that moment, as he gaped idly at the dormitory ceiling. Since that embarrassing moment in class, the flaxen haired boy couldn't bring himself to walk away; he couldn't bring his lifeless self to yet shift a limb. The thought of stepping outside the Slytherin common room would bring staring eyes to his focus and gossip to open minds.

"Draco … what day is it?" the usual, morning greeting came. The tone was lazy and low, he knew exactly who it was, one of his two group members. Crabbe. Malfoy yawned widely and budged his head slightly upwards to come face to face with the overweight bruit himself.

He shot him a dirty look.

"Get out of my face" he muttered, darkly.

"I asked you … what day is it?"

" It is a crap day…" the grey eyed Slytherin murmured. He shuffled around with the sheets, and tossed them aside, gradually sitting on the boundary of the bed and leaning forward on himself. He shut his eyes tightly and sighed. _Why did I dream that? It's going to haunt me forever … _the blonde haired boy thought, _Hermione has nothing to do with my life – oh great, now I'm even calling her by her real name…_

Malfoy breathed out hopelessly.

"Uh … Draco, I'm hungry—"

"Get it yourself!" he snapped, unaware that he was now stood and raging with anger. How many times had they complained to him? How many times had they expected him to do their dirty work for them? Always.

He rattled the hatred out of his head, thinking of his dad. _I'm nothing like my dad … I never was and never will be…_

Once more, shutting his eyes, he lowered his skull; he appeared to be acting an aged religious apology.

"I – I need to be alone … the food's in the Great Hall…" he muttered ungratefully. Once the pair vanished off into their world of food, Draco readied himself, trying to clear him mind of the mist over the past few moments of his life.

He glanced out of the pane of glass and out onto the luminous green grounds of Hogwarts. The lake shone beautifully from across the patch of grass. He watched as a wave of water was thrashed upwards and a tentacle materialized from under it. The giant squid that had lived there for thousands of durations had always fascinated him. Where did it come from? Is there more? Is it a fierce creature? Part of the time those questions popped up from nowhere, and he'd spend up to an hour attempting to answer them. He'd never guessed why it was in this very lake, but it didn't matter.

Draco turned and shot out of the dormitory door, down the brick, spiral staircase and into the Common room. It was pretty much empty, besides a couple in the far corner sweet talking each other. He found images of the dream firing into his mind; his memory bank was what angered him so much. No matter how hard he tried to forget something, he gathered he couldn't.

He chose to ignore it, and looked down singly at the ground. Eventually, he strolled his way out of the Common room and into the murky, stench filled dungeon. It was much colder outside than it was in the student house. He glimpsed around, catching the representation of grimy, slimy stone walls. Fungi appeared to be growing from the cracks in them and they were covered from top to bottom, inch from inch in moss.

Finding the background disturbing, the pale haired boy tottered away, and through the grand, high doors of Hogwarts School. The suns rays glimmered down forcefully at the ground; the effect of linoleum green surrounding the milieu.

He felt comfortable with sitting by the cold, relaxing lake, especially with the sun shining radiantly, but he collected enough information over the past five years, that it was tremendously popular amongst other pupils. He needed to be alone.

Soft, distant voices echoes through the frosty atmosphere ad he trod along the lakes bank, gazing vaguely down at the muddy surface. His feet slushed in its wet conditions, due to the fact that water may have spilt. Finally, he was alone, and he had time to think for himself. He strolled steadily past the damp level and further north. Draco peeked up his head, the forest was drawing ever so close, yet he did not care whether he stepped a metre inside. Although its dense figure reminded him fully of the Dungeon and caused him to shiver and shake his head, he walked on, as he drew nearer to his point of fear.

When at last, he came eye to eye with the dead appearance, he remained cool and firm. His warm breath made steam in the cold air as he breathed; it was so cold, he couldn't breathe through his nose, because it hurt so.

Still oh so early. He yawned.

Malfoy sat himself down in the now dry environment, his robes beneath him so he didn't receive grass stains.

_A dream_ He thought, _a dream is something that your mind plays for you. It is just a mini movie inside your head that rolls at night. It is nothing more, so why am I making such a big deal out of it? _

He thought for a while; why did he make such a big deal of it? It was nothing special.

_Have I suddenly gained a liking for Divination – no. That can't be true. Divination is just a load of crap … or is it Hermione? Obviously if I can't stop thinking of it, then the main capture was me and Hermione. I don't fancy Hermione … but – NO. I don't … in our third year, she punched me. In my fourth year, she completely ignored me, and now, she completely ignores me again …_

Draco battered the soil with his fist and knelt forward, gritting his teeth.

"Arghhh! WHY? I DON'T DESERVE THIS!" he boomed. His voice echoed several times into the Forbidden forest before he settled into a hopeless, hunched back.

_If I had one silent wish, I would ask for an opinion …or even for an end…_


End file.
